


Hangover

by BlankyFace



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Can be read as pining or established, Drunkenness, Gen, HadesBingo, Hangover, Hurt/Comfort, I left it ambiguous as to if they're together together, M/M, Short & Sweet, Zag and Dionysus are only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlankyFace/pseuds/BlankyFace
Summary: Asterius’s first sip of nectar after a rough time in the arena; Theseus plays "nursemaid" in the only way he knows how[For the Hangover square of my #HadesBingo card]
Relationships: Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 129





	Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic I've written solo in a very long time, and is unbeta'd. Please have mercy. If you find any mistakes, feel free to leave a comment about them and I'll fix it.

The minotaur falls to the dusty floor of the arena with a groan, and faintly, just over his shoulder, he can hear his companion call out his name before the world goes dark. 

Asterius wakes later, after the short one has succeeded. He holds his head in his hand before he can even raise it.

“Dear friend,” bemoans his king, saddling up to him with a limping gait that gets stronger over time. “it would seem that the Gods have turned their favor towards that fiendish hellspawn. Why the shame is more than I can...” And he grunts with the effort of hoisting Asterius up by the elbow. “bear.”

“Ah…” Asterius is still dizzy, and he closes his eyes to the emptying of the arena, as all the shades ghost away into eternal bliss once again. The sight only worsens this persistent ache in his head. It was his experience, fighting again and again at Theseus’s side, that his larger size tended to extend the negative effects of being inconveniently, momentarily, discorporated.

His king had not yet stopped chattering, as his bovine ears subtly flicked away from the sound. 

“Why, next we cross paths, I shall skin that daemon from neck to navel, and have him for a glorious throw rug in our quarters! Mark my words! No one makes a fool out of me in front of our adoring fans like that and gets away with it!” He scoffs and folds his arms for his wounded pride, pacing up and down in a way that makes Asterius feel sick to watch. He holds one of his three stomachs. The sight of his distress draws Theseus’s typically self-centered attention, and in a rare show of concern for another being, he stops in his tracks, taking in the image of the great man-beast.

“Oh, but here I am, pitying myself when, just look at you, dear Asterius!”

“Me, king?”

“Why yes, of course!” And from his imploring tone, one would think Asterius was mad for thinking Theseus could care for the keeping of anyone else. “You brave soul. Don’t lean there, now, it’s collapsing. All will be as it was later; allow me to escort you to our room, hm? That awful brute took some mark of your vitality with him, blast him to bits…”

All this cooing and carrying on does well to soothe the minotaur’s weary soul. And they walk together, arm in arm, through the columned hallways.

Once laid prone on his bedding, Asterius finds himself compelled immediately to sit up.

Theseus makes a noise in response. One of shock, and great concern. Asterius waves the hand that doesn’t cradle his abdominals up at him. “I’m—” And he wretches terribly.

“I shall find a bucket.” Theseus proclaims, finger stuck up in the air, opposite fist on his hip, sounding like a king of old off to find a great and powerful sword.

“King. This is _humiliating._ Let me be.”

“But how can I! Abandon you? When you need me most of all?!” He has no right to be shocked, but plays the part anyhow. “Fear not, dearest Asterius. This sickness shall not prevail against you, for I am here, to act as your tender nursemaid, and see to your every—”

Later, once the mess is cleaned up, all that remains is an aching in his ghostly head, which sticks around long after whatever ectoplasm has been expelled from his system and evaporated into a spectral mist.

“I,” Asterius begins slowly, testing his acid-strained voice, eyes closed. “have never felt this way.”

“Ha!” Theseus sniffs dumbly as he kicks his feet over the side of Asterius’s bed, palms flush with the sheets. “A mountainous and greasy morning feast would clear all that ails you.”

The thought of ingesting grease turns his stomachs again, but his ears perk from where he lays, with great interest. “You know in what way I’ve been poisoned?”

“Oh intimately. Many a night we celebrated with great festivities, after a battle won, or for a special time of year. The fortieth anniversary of my birth, now there was a night to remember! If I, well, supposing that I could remember…”

“You allowed the Lethe to drift it away?”

“Heavens no, Asterius! I lost it to Dionysus, is all.”

“He stole your memory?”

“In a manner of speaking. You see, the wines of Earth are of his conception, and when people sipped from it, they felt, well, a very diluted portion of his great power, which we were struck with out there on the field. It used to be enjoyable! In, ah, smaller doses…” And a part of him feels like shaking a fist up at the sky.

“Oh. Drunk, you mean.”

Theseus snaps his fingers cutely.

“I’ve never been.”

“Augh. Oh. To never once taste wine and yet to feel the morning’s curse of a hangover!” The former king of Athens tosses his wrist back over his eyes to shield himself from the depraved image of the sweet-faced bull on the bed. And though he cannot see him do it, Asterius is sure he is, and is fond. “It’s more than a shame, why, it’s a disgrace! How cruel some gods can be. You never deserved this, certainly not without making the trade of sacrificing your sobriety for this pain.”

Asterius snorts. “I will go on, as always.”

“But it would be unjust! You’ve been deprived of all good sensations so often, it torments me to think about it.” Suddenly, the golden haired man straightens, his arm falling away from his face, and the movement draws Asterius from his pre-slumber to gaze at him through low-lidded eyes. “I have exactly the thing. You wait here!”

“If you insist, my king.”

When Theseus returns to Asterius’s quarters from his own, the minotaur slowly begins to sit up, pulled from his near rest to appease the whims of his most beloved.

“This!” And he shoves his gift against Asterius’s very heart, the soft of his fur cushioning him from the cool touch of the bottle.

“Nectar?”

“You’re too generous to me, allowing me to have each one you find. You have no idea the sweetness you provide for me with it; allow me to show you. It’s a delight, Asterius. And here, in Elysium,” he says emphatically, pulling the cork for him himself. “the drinks never leave you with any pain. Cheers, yes?”

Grasping the slim neck of the nectar bottle, pooled like liquid gold in the little orb, Asterius parrots, “Cheers, yes.” like he thinks he ought to, and brings the bottle to his lips.

The opening first brushes the gold of his nose ring, then his tongue, and onto it flows a flavor he’d never known before.It is sweet, but it’s not sickly, not like the soft of a peach, nor the perfumed taste of an over-ripe pear. This one is richer than all other, and floods the mouth with the barest amount; one would gladly drown in it.

It’s fortunate that these bottles are so compact. Anymore, and Asterius isn’t sure he wouldn’t drift into madness.

He pulls away from a completely empty bottle, dazed.

Theseus’s eyes are bright, and expectant.

“It’s wonderful.”

He croons like a crow, and claps his hands, and wiggles in place. “I just knew you’d enjoy it. Oh Asterius. Now you see. We’ll share our bounties from here on, and rip these readily from the pockets of that filthy blackguard once he disgraces our arena again with his presence! We’ll have a grand time, won’t we, my friend?”

Asterius smiles at him, feeling better already. “As you wish, my king.”


End file.
